Edgeworth rubbed his forehead for a few seconds before taking a sip of cold Earl Grey tea. It had been a long day of paperwork; going over the facts of a murder case again and again to make sure that he got every nook and cranny.

His rival, despite of being a rookie, was magnificent in court. The defense all but had to generate one instance of 'reasonable doubt' to shatter the crown's case, however in the case with Wright, it was more than that.

Wright truly believed in his clients and would go beyond instances of 'reasonable doubt' to fully prove someone's innocence. A bit a naïvety on Wright's part; a court was to be more objective – logical. A place where judgement was only via evidence. An almost ideal place for true 'justice.'

Objective and logical. It was how Edgeworth preferred things. If one took all the promises of the good in what it meant to be human, and put the humans in a state of free-for-all, then humans would simply only be for themselves. The cover of life being nasty, brutish, and short would be revealed. Objective and logical. That was Edgeworth's truth. It had been his truth for a very long time.

Yet whenever Gumshoe knocks on the doors of his office at ungodly hours, enters, and chats with him about the daily duties of the police department, Edgeworth re-thinks the truth – the conclusion – by which he had always lived.

Tonight was no different. Gumshoe nudged the oak wood doors closed with his shoulder as he entered the office, carrying a fresh cup of Earl Grey tea.

Edgeworth could smell the scent of it; it was an inexpensive variety from a 24-hour store near the workplace. He knew that he wold much rather prefer his own imported brand of tea, but there was something endearing about Gumshoe spending his meager wages on getting him a drink.

Edgeworth couldn't quite place it. Nor could he place the Gumshoe's objective. There had never seemed to be any logic to it.

Edgeworth had asked Gumshoe about it once – only to receive a vague answer. He had since reasoned that if Gumshoe wished to share, then he would do so on his own accord.

"Mr. Edgeworth, sir!" Gumshoe greeted as he placed the cup of tea on his desk.

"Thank you, detective."

And then Gumshoe began his chatter. It was a comfortable kind. The detective knew that at times, Edgeworth's short responses were not of annoyance, but the consequence of a headache-inducing day.

Edgeworth allowed himself to lean back and sip the Earl Grey tea. He looked out the window, realizing that it was truly well off into the night. Gumshoe's reflection beside his own was a familiar sight.

When their chat and small banter were over, Gumshoe volunteered to carry Edgeworth's box of paperwork to the archive. To which Edgeworth declined; Gumshoe had already done enough for him. Has been doing enough for him for a long time.

As Edgeworth locked the doors to his office, he couldn't help but recall Gumshoe's admiration of the doors. Only Gumshoe would believe that wood engravings were more worthy than himself. The man in question rubbed the back of his neck as he awkwardly stood in the hallway, waiting for Edgeworth to finish up and pick up the box of paperwork.

As they walked down the spiral of stairs – elevators were closed for the night – the tiredness that had accumulated throughout the day finally got to Edgeworth. He made a mis-step; resulting in a flurry of papers that covered a level of stairs. The drop of the emptied box gave a loud echo.

As if in the heat of the moment, Edgeworth didn't even consider the reason as to why he wasn't in pain from the inevitable fall.

It was Gumshoe who had caught him. The consequence was that the detective got a bit injured in the process.

Not for the first time, Edgeworth's thoughts flashed back to the question of why. There was no rhyme, no reason, no logic, no true objective. There had never seemed to be one when it came to Gumshoe.

Perhaps it was truly the heat of the moment that made Edgeworth lean down on Gumshoe. The aftershave of the scruffy detective a strange, yet not unpleasant scent against his own breath that was of Earl Grey.

Perhaps it was not the heat of the moment at all. Perhaps there was some kind of logic and objective to it. However, they were not borne out of the pure self-interest of the nasty, brutish, and short. Gumshoe had been showing him this for a very long time, and finally, Edgeworth truly understood it.

And they kissed in the middle of the stairs; the chaos of papers around them.

A/N: Written about a year ago on Tumblr. Leave a fav to show your Gumworth/Nokomitsu support! 3